Point of Return
by angrbodagiantess
Summary: What if Loki hadn't given Kurse that 'I'm totally NOT a creep, honest' look in the dungeons and was subsequently set free? Or: How a single difference can change so much. One-shot.


**A/N: I've had this one-shot sleeping in my computer since forever, and I all but forgot I hadn't posted it yet. N** **ot much of a plot here, really, just some random stuff happening in the middle of a larger story.**

 _ **Rated T for:**_ **some fight scenes,** **minor language, but certainly no f-bombs, as my frequent readers know.**

* * *

 _ **Point of Return**_

The creature approached, vicious horns and tusks framing a charred face with too-blue eyes that made Loki shudder. It stared at him as he leaned back a little, uncertain what to make of the beast. The others it had set loose, so why not Loki, too?

For a moment the monster did nothing but stare. Then, although it turned as if to leave, it crashed its massive fist against the golden barrier as it shattered and spilled away, golden light dissipating.

Loki contained a look of glee, unsure if the creature would disapprove given its hesitation to free him compared to the others- best not to agitate it at the moment.

 _He will leave_ , thought Loki. _He knows not who I am._ In truth, Loki had no idea what the monster was or what it could want. It walked away from him with heavy footfalls, ignoring the growing battle between the freed prisoners and the guards. More and more poured in by the second and Loki knew he had to leave if he had any chance of escaping.

.

Before leaving his cell, Loki conjured himself a new outfit, leather armor he'd always favored in his youth, something suited for both running and quick-footed fighting.

Despite his ease with conjuring his new clothes, he found himself a bit _rusty_ given his time in the dungeons. Every corridor leaving the dungeon was filled with combatants in every space, too many for even a sly trickster to slide through unseen.

As if sensing his thoughts, a prisoner, wild with battle rage, nearly crashed into him, although Loki sidestepped just in time only to cause the red-eyed, horned... _man?_ to fall. It sprung to his feet and _growled_ at Loki.

 _Ah, naturally._ Couldn't he just escape _in peace_?

The man-beast growled again as Loki gave a winning smile. "I believe the _guards_ are who you're looking for-"

Predictably, the prisoner swung at him with an uncoordinated arm as Loki ducked easily out of the way. He didn't have a chance to retaliate, however, as a guard's sword swung at him, forcing the trickster to duck and roll, coming up on the other side of the man-beast.

Grunting confusedly, the prisoner attacked the guard instead, apparently not caring _who_ he was fighting.

"Have fun," Loki saluted the guard with a mocking hand over his chest and a slight bow as he walked backwards. He turned and... _Damn._

Thor was coming.

Loki hissed in annoyance and ducked down, knowing if his _brother_ saw him he'd never get away. He could, perhaps, conjure a double to distract the thunder god but there were too many people here and an illusion, especially one that wasn't just standing their dumbly, required far too much energy to maintain, at least this soon out of his prison, and would leave Loki vulnerable.

No, that wouldn't do.

Avoiding the ongoing tussle between the horned-man and the guard- to which Loki had to suppress a smirk -he backtracked a little and found the opposite direction out of the dungeons a little less cramped with bodies trying to kill each other. Not much better, but better than _Thor_ , at least.

Weaving his way through the throng, Loki swiftly bounded up a wide set of stone stairs that led to the surface, into a grand hall. Except there were even _more_ people up here! But who were they? Their strange pale masks were eerily doll-like, with pointed ears and blank holes for eyes. They fought the Aesir with long-ranged weapons for the most part, although a few dared to challenge the gods in closer quarters. There was no way to get around them without being seen by _someone_. Shame.

Loki ran on light feet, swerving around and through the Aesir- who mostly ignored their once-prince. Rolling to avoid a blast from one of the masked men's guns, he stole a silver dagger from a nearby guard's belt and managed, even in his hurry, to snicker at the man's shout of surprise. As blasts of energy bounced from the guards' shields and their swords sung with enchanted power, the fight began in earnest as the mischief maker ran through the large room- and hopefully to safety and escape.

A line of pillars to his right provided refuge for Loki, at least for a moment, as he caught his breath and watched the masked-men fight with the Aesir. The masks... Could they be? Pictures from his youth sprang to his mind but he didn't have time to think.

He looked down; he had a weapon, at least. A deep intake through his nose was all he needed before he moved again-

A flash of a bright sword swung at him, forcing him to stumble backwards, although he quickly regained his footing. _I really don't have time for this._

The guard wasn't one of the Einherjar, thankfully, but it really didn't matter when two masked men joined them behind the golden pillars. They had lost their guns, apparently, as their blank faces stared at the two Asgardians from behind raised melee weapons. It took only one look from the guard to tell Loki he would deal with these _intruders_ before he would attack the former prince. Loki couldn't agree more.

The one nearest Loki spun round and attacked with his strange bladed weapon, the prince following suit. Blocking, then spinning and jabbing at the side of its throat, Loki was almost disappointed with how quickly his opponent had fallen. His own 'intruder' taken care of, Loki moved to run again, only to be struck across the chest with the flat blade of _another_ sword, forcing him backward and skidding to one knee. _Damn these guards!_

...But of course it wasn't just a _guard_ , but one of Odin's Einherjar. Loki sighed heavily and stumbled to his feet, not feeling like being graceful at the moment. He just wanted _out_ ; was that so terrible a request?

And just to add to his day, the other guard had dispatched his opponent and stood with sword ready at Loki's flank.

"Return to the dungeons," ordered the Einherjar without emotion.

Loki only straightened and smiled innocently when he noticed one of the masked enemies run up behind the elite guard. Yet, the guard swiftly turned around and sliced his opponent straight across the chest, then in barely a breath later was bearing down on Loki with sword leveled horizontally at him. The trickster had no choice but to take several steps back. The other guard approached as well, weapon steadily rising.

 _A fight it is, then._

Going for the weaker guard first- relatively speaking, that is -Loki quickly used dagger and speed to catch him off-guard. Spinning and rolling and coming up behind him- and not wanting to anger his next opponent unnecessarily -Loki knocked the guard out with as much strength as he could conjure. Far too quickly, the Einherjar leaped on him, pinning him against a pillar with a sword across his throat.

Straining to look out into the main room, Loki asked of the guard with a tight voice, "Wouldn't you rather be... helping your friends?" The man ignored him as he struck Loki on the side of the head as he fell to the floor. Laughing and dizzy, Loki backed away as he attempted to stand. "Don't tell me you're _angry_ at me for that guard. I could have killed him and I didn't-"

The guard swung his sword at Loki three times, and three times he managed to dodge, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he should just _run_. _Probably not a good idea._ The guard seemed determined to stop him. And again, his lazy days in the dungeon were not helping- was he actually getting _winded_? Perish the thought. But still... Loki found himself, unfortunately, completely on the defensive. This guard was good. Which shouldn't be that unexpected, the Einherjar were _elite_ guards for a reason.

His hand suddenly caught in the other's grip, a sharp _twist_ forcing Loki to drop his dagger, just as the guard kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying back against the hard wall. A fist flew at him before he could dodge, although it glanced sideways, preventing him from cracking his head on the wall behind. It still hurt.

Loki coughed and sunk to his knees, vowing that, were he to be recaptured- which looked more and more likely -he would work out every day in his cell... until he looked like Thor. Despite the situation, he laughed.

The guard didn't find any of this amusing, apparently, as he roughly pulled Loki to his feet by an arm. And yet, his next words surprised the former prince: "I'll keep you safe until I get you back to your cell." His voice wasn't entirely unkind. _Former_ prince? Perhaps that wasn't quite right, at least to some people.

His return to his cell wasn't meant to be, though. Five of the masked-ones rushed at them and five more ran from across the room. The Einherjar pushed Loki away, behind a pillar as he gave a war-cry and ran headlong into the fray, not once looking back at the prince.

Startled and wide-eyed, Loki tried to collect himself as he hid, too stunned to know what to do. Why would the guard..? When the sharp clang of the Einherjar's sword against hardened armor died down, Loki moved silently out of the room, not daring to look and yet somehow knowing the guard hadn't been the victor.

He told himself he didn't care as he stumbled out in a pained daze.

.

A quick peek under the strange masks told Loki his recalled memories had been right, although that didn't sufficiently explain _how_ they were here. Weren't the dark elves all dead? He remembered his mother's stories well. He remembered being enthralled with them, and his elder brother, for once, was _still_ and _listening_ , sitting beside him with wild-eyed excitement. _'Did you fight them, Mother?'_ Thor had asked with a wide, open-mouthed smile. Frigga had chuckled and tucked a hair behind his ear.

Frigga.

 _Mother..._

Inhaling sharply, Loki suddenly remembered- remembered what was so much more important than _escaping_. He tried to be selfish, tried to bury his sentiment, but the attempt was barely even acknowledged, his feet already running.

Not knowing where she could be, he cast a simple spell, one he'd used countless times to find his brother over the centuries. He quickly pinpointed his mother's location, which was several levels above him.

Everywhere the enemy advanced and filled the palace to the brim, but Loki didn't care. He had one goal in mind and that goal encompassed everything he was right now, it wouldn't allow him to stray even a little. Even if he would be recaptured, if he at least knew that _she_ was safe, it would all be worth it. He wanted to scorn himself for his ridiculous selflessness, this _sentiment_ , but the mere _thought_ of her not returning to him, never again to laugh with him or scold him or bring him books or... say she loved him...

His last words to her, why had he said such a thing? What a fool he was, and if something happened to her now...

His spell led him to a room with a large balcony overlooking the city proper. Loki breathed harshly, in and out, but not from his run. Frigga wasn't here. Shaking his head, he remembered that the spell only showed the _last_ location of the target- it didn't keep track of them in real time. He really had become slow in his cell.

Conjuring the magic necessary to cast the spell again, the trickster was caught off-guard when a deep voice behind him said: "Where is the Aether?"

Spinning around, Loki's dagger was struck from his hand as it clanged across the floor, a hand gripping him suddenly around his throat.

"Tell me, Asgardian!" growled the man- no _elf_ -pale eyes wide with anger. "I sense it nearby..." His voice lowered as he looked about.

Loki tried to pry off the elf's hand but he found his strength waning, his fight with the Einherjar and the others finally catching up to him. He would heal but that would take time; too much time. He coughed and spoke through teeth, "I don't know what you're talking about." That was the truth, for once. What was he on about, the _Aether_? The ancient relic? It had been destroyed, hadn't it? And yet, everyone had thought the same about the dark elves...

Pale blue eyes jumped to his. "Who are you?" asked the elf as his head tilted back.

"None of your damned business," Loki managed, only to feel fingers squeezing tighter. His vision was blurring and he felt a sudden spike of panic run through him; could this dark elf kill him? He had the disposition and poise of a leader, and although Loki couldn't gauge his strength given his own weakened state, he found himself wondering if Thor would be able to take him.

"Release _my son_."

That voice. Loki knew that voice better than any. _Mother..._ And although he was at first relieved, his next thought made his heart leap into his crushed throat. What if this elf hurt his mother? What if something _happened_ to her? It would all be Loki's fault, because he was _useless_ and apparently couldn't even protect his own mother.

Strangely, the dark elf abruptly released Loki, his hand lingering a moment in the air before retracting. "Your _son_ ," he said with a deep rumble. He glanced down at Loki, then looked back at her. "And who might you be?"

"That is no concern of yours," said the queen, words harsh but voice steady. She walked slowly around the room toward them, gleaming weapon in hand, casually at her side but Loki knew better.

The elf smirked. "It is now. I sense you have touched the Aether, and recently. Where is it?"

"Who are you?"

"I am Malekith. And I would have what is mine."

Even through his pain and blurred vision, Loki saw a small woman peeking out from behind a metal strut across the room. It was difficult to see as she was in shadows, but he made out brown, straight hair and the small frame of a mortal. It was obvious she was no Asgardian. _Jane Foster?_ Loki squinted. What was _she_ doing here, was she- his eyes widened as he looked to his mother from the floor.

She looked to her son. "Are you alright?"

Somehow, even when he _tried_ to nod, to say he was fine, he found himself shaking his head.

The All-mother's cold eyes fell on Malekith. _Malekith_. Malekith of the dark elves, Malekith who fought his grandfath- Thor's grandfather Bor, Malekith of _those stories_.

Loki painstakingly moved backward and rested against a nearby wall.

When she had finally reached Malekith, Frigga's short sword dazzled brightly and slashed upward, cutting the elf. Loki flinched, not expecting that. Malekith, apparently, hadn't either. He drew his weapon, but, with barely two moves, she struck it out of his hands. Loki and Jane, both, watched with wide eyes. Like a whirlwind, the queen swerved around, her dress fanning out as she spun this way and that, striking again and again at the elf in elegant moves more graceful and deadly than Loki ever remembered. It was _she_ who had taught him, after all, and yet clearly the pupil had never outshone the master- or, at least, he couldn't have right now if he tried.

Chest heaving in anger, it was the only thing that gave away any emotion as her sword stopped at Malekith's neck. Then, without hesitation, she drove forward and cut his throat. Malekith fell, wide-eyed with shock.

As the leader of the dark elves bled on the floor, the All-mother stood over him, chin held high. "You made a mistake," she said, voice cool but eyes dark, "when you attacked _my son_. I might have let you live, otherwise."

Malekith's eyes closed halfway, his form falling still, his final breath leaving.

Picking up her skirts, Frigga quickly moved to Loki's side, cupping his face with both hands. "Oh, my baby boy, are you alright?"

Loki blinked up at her, still shocked but nodding in response.

Frigga frowned a little. "Then why did you say you were hurt earlier?" Her voice hinted at a tease, loving but still worried.

"I-I'm a liar," Loki said blankly, eyes roving over Malekith's body. He _was_ hurt but he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Perhaps," he looked to her, finally realizing she was _here_ , in body, not an illusion. "Perhaps I need another good scolding from you about that."

Her hands didn't leave his face as she bent down and kissed him on the head. Loki wrapped his arms around her waist and she allowed him to rest his head against her body, holding him close.

"Everything will be all right," she soothed, voice a sharp contrast to her vicious tone to the enemy only moments before.

He sensed the mortal approaching, her steps slow and cautious. Suddenly, she yelped, jumping back.

A growl caused Frigga to let go and swerve around, short sword brandished again and ready.

 _The monster!_ Loki's heart nearly jumped from his ribcage. Whatever skills his mother had, even with all her power, he was certain this _creature_ was beyond even the All-mother. It had broken the, supposedly, unbreakable walls of the prison's cells. That was nothing to scoff at- and hadn't she just killed its leader? The monster raged when it saw Malekith's body.

Loki tried to pull himself up, feeling panic and adrenaline fueling his very bones. He stumbled forward, ready to distract the monster while Frigga got Jane Foster to safety- _why should I care about that mortal?_ Why? Perhaps because he now guessed that it was _she_ who housed the Aether, as strange a notion as that was; he could almost sense it.

" _No_ , Loki," said Frigga firmly, arm out and pushing him behind her, protectiveness radiating from her like unrelenting waves. She was _Mother_ and he couldn't have disobeyed her right now if he tried.

She stood with squared shoulders, head held high and Loki suddenly didn't know what to do. He just wanted to _cry_ because hadn't he just gotten her back? It was too short-lived, he needed _more_. For her to leave again... never to visit him in his cell? _No..._ He had to say it now, had to say she _was_ his mother, and always had been, always _would_ be.

The monster readied its attack, its tree-trunk legs propelling him forward. _We'll die here, then_. _Together._ It was the best Loki could hope for, a better death than he'd ever deserve.

But a familiar and loud _'No!'_ echoed all around as Mjolnir flew passed, striking the monster square in the chest. He stumbled back but, impossibly, stayed on his feet. He looked angrier than ever but didn't move as he regarded the newcomer.

"Thor!" Jane gasped, although she stayed where she was, clearly aware that Thor had more fighting to do. At least she had some sense.

"Jane," Thor glanced back at her but eyed the dark elf creature, "are you well?"

"Yeah, I'm... fine, thanks to your mom." She said nothing further as she backed away.

Thor clutched his hammer as he caught sight of Loki, then walked toward the trickster and their mother. He stood to the side of her, then took a step forward.

Loki felt a surge of relief settling over him. He still hated Thor, but if anyone could take the creature, it would be him.

"Leave!" The order, strangely, didn't come from Thor, but the All-father, who stood in the doorway with several Einherjar flanking him. With helmet in place, Gungnir in hand, he looked more a king now than he ever had. Feelings of relief at the sight of _him_ , Loki ignored. "Your master is dead," continued Odin, "and your forces defeated. You now face the All-father, All-mother, _and_ our two sons- the entirety of Asgard's royalty; so, I say to you: _leave_ _now_ or feel the combined sting of our power."

For a long moment, nothing happened. Loki held his breath. Then, a growl escaped the creature before he turned around and, without hesitation, jumped off the balcony. Thor ran over with hammer aloft, then watched as some sort of ship carried the monster away. He made a frustrated noise at its escape.

"Why did you let him go?" asked Thor in annoyance. "We should have defeated him here, while we could. Now I will have to fight him later."

"Do not be so quick to battle, my son," said Odin as he dismissed all but two of his elite guards. "I sense a power within that creature that may give even _you_ some trouble."

Thor frowned but said nothing as he looked over Malekith's body, then moved to the balcony where he eyed the sky.

As for Loki, he tried to convince himself that he _wasn't_ , in fact, hiding behind his mother. He had just escaped and, barely a few hours later, he would be back in his cell again! He might have rolled his eyes at his continued misfortune, but he didn't want Odin to see, to possibly misinterpret it. Not that he cared, of course he didn't. Just because the All-father could lessen or worsen his sentence on a whim, that didn't mean that he was _afraid_ to do something like _roll his eyes_ at him. Not at all. And he wouldn't have even been rolling his eyes at _him_. Why did these ridiculous thoughts always plague him so?

Turning around, Frigga smiled at Loki, touching his face as she reassured herself of his health. Loki stood still, accepting her ministrations as he tried not to look too pained at his injuries- and tried not to look too obvious about avoiding Odin's eye, or Odin at all, as he gladly faced his mother instead.

Thor approached from behind Loki. "Are you injured?" he asked.

There was silence for a moment as Frigga looked to her eldest, then to her youngest. She smiled sympathetically at the trickster. "He's not speaking to me, my love."

Loki frowned confusedly and was glad he was facing away from the thunder god. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. No sound came out. Then finally, he mumbled, "I'm..." He glanced behind, trying to look nonchalant. "I'm fine... Thor."

The thunder god nodded with a small smile as he walked to his mortal, who quietly wrapped her arms around him.

As Frigga worried over Loki's injuries, the All-father relayed orders through his guards and Thor checked Jane for any injuries of her own. Loki couldn't help but remember something, something that now tugged at his mind and he couldn't let go of. Words spoken by Odin, by his once-father, by the man who had all but told him he should have _died_ on that frozen rock so many years ago. Words that could have been spoken in the heat of the moment, and yet...

What was it his mother had said? It seemed so long ago now.

 _"There's always a purpose to everything your father does."_

But no.

 _Of course_ , no.

 _"...You now face the All-father, All-mother,_ and _our two sons."_

Sentiment.

A ploy. There's nothing to it.

Sentiment...

The All-father is cunning, it was something for the monster. Words wielded just as... Loki might...

 _Sentiment._

He hadn't meant a word of it. Of course he hadn't. They weren't a family, no, no they weren't.

Loki was certain. There's nothing to it. A ploy. Something for the monster- just... _no_.

He shook his head as Odin's one-eyed gaze fell on him. He wondered if he imagined the way the single blue eye twinkled for a moment as he watched his once-son.

He didn't _dare_ think about what that could mean. _Damn you, All-father._ Oh, how Loki hated him.

* * *

 **A/N: Does this feel like it stopped abruptly? I kind of feel that way. Don't really have any ideas for a second chapter, though. It took me ages to even get this much out- stuff kept annoying me! I get annoyed at my work. It happens (read: a lot).**

 **I want to point out that I think the reason Kurse doesn't let Loki out of his cell is because it's filled with furniture and he's alone- compared to literally everyone else. The initial idea for this fic is mostly a joke about how I thought Loki was giving the absolute _worst_ facial expression if one is trying to be set free. Funny how ideas form.**

 ** _Randomness!:_ You know what gave me the most trouble in this fic? Loki's power-level. Seriously, we really only see him fight Thor (Loki has a super-duper awesome magic stick of some kind every time), puny mortals (okay, Cap isn't puny but still mortal), or dark elves (who knows why they use guns instead of fighting hand-to-hand?). So really, how strong _is_ Loki? I'm talking physically here; that fight on Jotunheim doesn't really show his physical strength since he was using throwing knives/magic. Compared to the comic books they seem to have nerfed his magic a LOT for the films, so what did they change physically? I assumed he's gotten by in life using a combination of trickery, backstabbing (or throwstabbing?), and his huge brain. Yep. But in any case, I suppose this particular subject is for every author to decide for themselves- and per story.**


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